


My Love Must be a Kind of Blind Love

by ava_jamison



Series: Steadfast [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ava_jamison/pseuds/ava_jamison
Summary: Pure PWP.This started because of a thing I saw on Tumblr, claiming Clark was the perfect example of a service top. Now, truth be told, I'm not even exactly sure what that is/what that would look like. Didn't stop me from trying to write it.It's part of a story cycle I'm calling Steadfast, but exists outside the WIP I'm also writing right now.





	My Love Must be a Kind of Blind Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaybay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybay/gifts).



> Jaybay, this goes out to you because the story I posted for you made you so happy and because I want to say thanks for making me remember how much fun it is to write in this fandom. Merry Christmas.

Clark presses hard, harder. He presses hard with his hips and he grips hard with his hands, holding Bruce by his biceps while he takes him, ruts into him on a bed in the cave’s med bay. They’re both still dressed from their last mission and he’s got the bottom half of Bruce’s uniform peeled down and his own dick free enough to fuck him. He’s hard and he’s rough—as rough as he’ll let himself be—but it’s not enough.

“Harder,” Bruce demands and Clark has to heed it, has to listen, and so he grips Bruce harder, rips away Batman’s cape, drops even more of his weight on him, hips pistoning in and in and _in_. “Put your back into it,” Bruce growls and Clark wants to give Bruce what he needs even more than he wants to turn Bruce over, to fuck him the way _Clark_ wants to do it and kiss him while he drives himself home. To breathe into Bruce’s mouth instead of tasting Kevlar, lips pressed into the strong cord of muscle running along Bruce’s shoulder. To watch Bruce come, while he fucks him deep and slow.

Bruce pushes back, up and back because he wants _more_ and Clark can do that for him. He can put aside his own desire, his own needs—it’s not like he doesn’t get off too, he’s not a martyr—it’s just not the way he’d want it, until Bruce _makes_ him want it, makes him want to _take_ and _own_ , to fuck Bruce the way Bruce wants to be fucked, hard and relentless.

The bed thumps in its moorings as he fucks him, legs splaying farther apart as he gives himself over and just takes the body beneath him and Bruce cries out, baring his neck. Clark knows him, knows what he wants, and maybe that’s the closest he’ll come to having Bruce’s heart, so he does it, bites through the leather of the cowl, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to tether him here, to this man, this moment.

He does it because Bruce wants to be used, wants to be bruised, wants to be held in place, to be owned, and maybe that’s Bruce’s own kind of gentleness, not the rough feel of teeth but just being held, being held fast by someone, by some _thing_ that can distract him from whatever’s haunting him today, when he doesn’t have Clark deep inside him, when they’re not like this. Someday Bruce will let him fuck him in his bed, and he’ll make Bruce have to just _take_ it, a slow, tender pace that’s every bit as relentless as this one, because Clark can go for days if he wants to, even when he’s fucking the man that writhes beneath him, the one who’s breaking his heart.

For now, though, Bruce wants what he _needs_ , and as far as Clark knows, he’s the only one who can give it to him, hold him at his mercy, make the man give it up, give it all up, and truly forget the brokenness inside. Clark pulls him up to all fours, never pulling out, and plants his hands next to Bruce’s. Bruce has large hands, but Clark’s are bigger and he sees Bruce take that in, feels him buck up under him, push back. Bruce’s fingers splay and Clark holds his wrists, holds him fast. 

“Give it up for me, Batman,” Clark whispers, his own voice rough and hoarse. He’s plastered to the man’s back now, sweat slicking the two of them, seeping over skin and uniforms, and Bruce is letting out low, broken breaths, just shuddering huffs of air with every thrust. Clark fucks him like that, four, five, six times, and then he aches, absolutely aches for something better, something more intimate, so he draws back. Never leaving Bruce, still inside him, he tips him back, until Bruce is sprawled on his lap and still Clark fucks up into him, an arm banded around his chest, a hand gripping hard on his hip, holding him there. Bruce protests, tries to scrabble forward and get himself back underneath, but Clark won’t let him, and maybe because Bruce is exhausted already, maybe because this is what he’s wanted all along, Clark just _taking_ him, he lets himself be manhandled, held fast. 

Bruce groans, shudders, when Clark reaches for his dick, taking Bruce’s iron-hard length in his hand, slick already. Clark strokes him, over and over; gentle but firm, so very firm, and his voice is firm, too, when he whispers, right in Bruce’s ear. “Now,” he says. “Come for me.”

Bruce lets out a breath that sounds like he’s been gut-punched and his whole body bucks and he does come, splattering wet over Clark’s hands, all over Bruce’s chest, and that, then, is when Clark can touch him. Can _really_ touch him. Can give him the kind of touches _he_ wants to give. Softly now, he fucks up into him, shifting Bruce’s weight so that he can hold him with a single arm around his waist. So that he can use his other hand to push up at the cowl, get the leather and Kevlar out of the way. Lips soft now, tender, he sucks a line of kisses along the corded muscle running from Bruce’s shoulder to his neck while he lets his free hand roam over Bruce’s entire body, his throat and thighs and arms, ending at Bruce’s right hand. There, he intertwines his fingers with Bruce’s, pushes up once more and comes, hard and deep, holding Bruce’s hand.


End file.
